


Flowers

by Mechtadyne



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 20:33:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2595545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mechtadyne/pseuds/Mechtadyne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tachibana Haro doesn't mind the smell of flowers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to Effsie and Robuttics. Tachibana Haro and Oshiro Goro are Effsie's characters, Koizumi Yuudai belongs to Robuttics.
> 
> I can't believe I did this.

It’s cloudy today. Which is strange, Haro thinks, because it’s been so hot lately. It’s a good thing Kamiko convinced him to bring his jacket today, though he’d never admit it to her. He folds the jacket closer to his chest from the corner of the club room behind the shadows of his locker, where no one can see him. Another baseball game blares in the background, and Yuudai is there, entranced, like always. There are no subtitles on this American game, but Haro is sure it doesn’t matter either way. Goro is there too, baseball cards sprawled haphazardly in a line in front of them, and he points excitedly to each appropriate player as they come on screen.

“Oh, Joe Panik! He’s nice, he’s got a good batting arm. Have you seen his cards? I only have a few, but my dad got me his autograph last summer!” Goro scrambles through his deck and shows a golden card wrapped in clear plastic to Yuudai.

“That’s wonderful, Goro!” Yuudai smiles at the junior, “I’m sure you’ve seen him many times in person.”

“I’ve been to a lot of games, yeah,” he murmurs in return, “But I’ve never met him face to face, up close. It’s a bit daunting though. I’ve only ever met Madison Bumgarner.”

“Your favourite.” Yuudai says, and Goro beams.

“You remembered! He signed a baseball for me. It’s in my room, above my bed. He’s so nice in person…I never thought I’d meet him, ever.”

“But here you are.” Yuudai says, smiling. He leans back, then jerks forward and cheers as Panik gets two runners back to home.

Haro reaches for his cell phone at the back of his locker. No missed calls, but one message he missed. _Yuudai_ , it reads, _4:01pm_ , and Haro feels a soft sinking at his chest.

_Remember practice this afternoon! I’ll see you there._

Every day, but Yuudai has never missed one. He texts the whole team, as a captain should, but it makes the effort no less special. Haro scoffs to himself and shoves the cell into his school bag, then reaches for his sweat stained uniform in the locker and decides to bring that home for a wash as well. He throws the bag over a shoulder and takes out a cigarette and lighter as he leaves.

“See you tomorrow.” He says, but suddenly he feels a hand at his wrist.

“Haro-kun!” It’s Yuudai, and Haro almost drops his lighter.

“I forgot to ask you, silly me,” Yuudai says as he lets go of Haro’s wrist. “Coach recorded the game for Tekikoukou last night. Did you want to come over and help me review their patterns?”

Haro holds his wrist where Yuudai grabbed him. “You can’t do that yourself?”

“Well, it’d hardly be any fun,” he says, but sighs all the same, “But if you’re busy, then --”

“I’m not,” Haro interrupts, but then coughs to himself, “I’m not busy.”

“We can leave now, if you want. You can borrow some of my spare clothes. I know you live a while away.”

“Okay. Let’s go.”

“Do you…wanna call your parents?” Yuudai asks, quirking a brow. Haro laughs.

“Not really, but it’s okay. I can go.” Haro brings the cigarette back to his lips and lights it. Yuudai quickly shoos Goro out of the room. Something about getting home and away from the smoke, but Haro barely pays attention as he leans against the wall outside the club room, waiting for Yuudai to finish packing his belongings and locking the door. The smoke from the cigarette warms his chest, and Haro exhales a slow puff of smoke before bringing it back to his lips.

Haro holds his wrist and rubs it when Yuudai touched him. It still feels warm, he thinks.

* * *

 

Yuudai lives above a flower shop, and his home is filled with greenery. How did Haro never realize this? The smell of freshly cut flowers wafts across the store front. There are gerberas lined neatly by a window sill, accented with lilies. At least, that’s what Yuudai tells him. Yoko would get a kick out of this, Haro thinks. Yuudai plays with one of the pots as he waits for his mother to finish with a customer.

“Oh, hello Yuu-kun.” The woman says, waving. Yuudai bows politely, and Haro can only manage a reluctant nod when she looks at him.

“Good afternoon, Hiakri-san. For your husband?” Yuudai gestures to the roses she clutches closely to her chest. The woman smiles and nods.

“Oh, yes. It’s our anniversary today.” She smiles sweetly. Too sweet, Haro thinks, and he distracts himself with a nearby pair of gardening scissors.

“Congratulations, Hikari-san! I hope you have a wonderful day.”

“Oh, you too dear. And your friend, as well.” The woman waves goodbye to them and Yuudai returns it with a smile, his usual happy-go lucky style. Out of nothing but sheer respect to Yuudai, Haro manages another nod to the woman. His father would be so impressed.

“I’m home, mum.” Yuudai says as he hugs his mum from across the counter.

“Welcome home, dear.” She says. She is a small woman, much older than Haro anticipated. Her hair is the same shade as Yuudai’s, though there are small specks of silver beginning to line the sides of her head. She is small, but hardly frail, and Haro notices her hands are calloused, likely from working so closely with flowers and gardens. Yuudai shares her nose and eyes.

“This is Tachibana Haro. He’s a classmate. He’s in the baseball team too. Can he stay the night?” Yuudai asks.

“Of course, dear. I’ll get your brother to get the futon. Do you need the TV tonight?” His mother begins to busy herself, shuffling behind the counter.

“Yes, please. If that’s okay.”

“I’ll get your father to bring it into your room. It’s nice to meet you, Haro-kun.” The woman says to Haro. He turns a shade of bright pink and simply nods.

“Nice-to-meet-you.” Haro spits out quickly. Yuudai smiles at him, and Haro can’t believe he’s being so polite. His father would be _very_ proud of him.

Yuudai excuses them, and the slip off their school shoes and into slippers as they bound up the stairs to the second floor.

“So you live here?” Haro says as Yuudai leads him up the stairs. There are flowers lining the railing of the wall; pink, blue, purple, and more.

“That’s right!” Yuudai smiles. The house is traditional style, which surprises Haro. Yuudai opens a paper door, and invites Haro to enter first.

The living room is small and quaint. At the corner of the room, there is a small kitchen. Haro sees a balcony on one side of the room, and a hallway down another. Three doors line the wall. There are more flowers here, like the tall vase of sunflowers by the TV, or the small freckles of purple alfalfa that are potted atop the kotatsu. A row of roses lines the kitchen, and more flowers than Haro can even recognise cloud the balcony from sight. Even here, the smell of flowers is fresh. Haro supposes he shouldn’t be too surprised.

“Oh,” Yuudai says suddenly, “I know it’s not your thing, I wouldn’t normally ask, but…could you not smoke here, please? The smoke bothers dad, and I don’t really want cigarettes around my brother.” Yuudai raises his hands, palms out. He smiles and says, “No offense.”

“Mm.” Haro replies, nodding. Yuudai smiles and nods back, then leads them across the small living room towards one of the paper doors. A small sign reads _Yuu-kun._

His room is small as well, and almost empty, which surprises Haro. There is a shelf with neatly lined books, and a small desk with a light and some pens strewn about it. A futon is rolled into the corner of the room, by the closet, which looks small as well. There is a half-eaten plate of food by the door, and Yuudai quickly grabs it in a hurry, cheeks flushed red.

“Oh my, this is old.” He hurries out the room and Haro can hear him fiddling in the kitchen.

Haro puts his bag down by the door. He takes his cigarette packet out of his pocket and shoves it into the bag. There is a different smell here. The room smells like flowers and freshly cut grass, and something else he can’t quite pinpoint. Haro wanders over to the desk. Next to the lamp light, there is a vase of small red flowers he does not recognise. He plays idly with its petals as he looks around the room. There is a window in his room that overlooks Nanba’s cityscape. It is nothing special or pretty, but more of those small red flowers line the window sill. He walks to Yuudai’s closet and opens it. There are only school uniforms and a few sets of plain clothing, much less than Haro expected. Yuudai likes red and black, he notices. That smell is stronger here, but Haro still can’t pick it out beyond flowers and the scent of spring.

“Water?” Yuudai says as he returns, then quirks a brow, “Snooping?”

“Not much to snoop.” Haro admits before he can even think. His heart beats faster suddenly, and he feels nervous. Yuudai just laughs and nods though.

“The house is a little small, isn’t it?” He says as he passes the glass of water to Haro. He mutters a thanks, and suddenly there is a knock on the door. A young boy opens it, and Haro stares blankly at this miniature Yuudai.

“Here you go, Nii-chan.” Little Yuudai gives bigger Yuudai a rolled up futon.

“Thanks, little bro!” Big Yuudai runs his hand messily through little Yuudai’s hair, and the boy squeaks in complaint. They chat a little, generic _How was your day_? chit chat that Haro doesn’t care for, and by the time he zones back in, little Yuudai is gone and in his place is an older man holding a TV.

“Your mum said you wanted the TV tonight?” he says, and Yuudai nods as he helps his father place the TV on the floor of his room.

“Thanks dad! I’m sorry to take it for the night…” Yuudai starts, but his father laughs and waves him off.

“You’re one with the guest, Yuu-kun! It’s nice to meet you by the way. Yuudai never brings friends home.” The man reaches to shake Haro’s hand, and he obliges, albeit reluctantly. He murmurs another quick _nice-to-meet-you_ and Yuudai’s dad smiles.

“You must be Haro-kun!” his dad says, and Haro is taken aback as his father explains. “Yuu-kun talks about you all the time. You’re both the only seniors on the team, right? At least you have each other.”

Haro stares blankly at the man and just nods. He smiles back, hugs his son and kisses his cheek, and disappears from the room as he says, _We’re having katsudon for dinner!_

Yuudai is red, Haro notices. He looks like the flowers on his desk, red speckles matching his freckles.

“My dad is a bit embarrassing, sorry,” Yuudai says as he scratches the back of his head, “I guess all dads are, huh?”

“My dad sucks.” Haro said simply, and Yuudai laughs. That is something he likes about Yuudai.

“You talk about me a lot?” Haro asks, and suddenly Yuudai too busy connecting the TV to the powerpoint to respond.

They connect the TV, lay out the futons, and change into pajamas as the night rolls on. Yuudai gives Haro an embarrassing pair of red pajamas with flowers on them, but Haro can’t find it in him to turn them away. Even his blankets have a red flower pattern on them, and suddenly Haro can’t help but wonder if he’s at Yuudai’s house, or Yoko’s? When the TV comes on and the Tekikoukou game starts playing, Yuudai is gone from this world, locked only on the TV and scribbling onto a notepad as Haro sits on the futon. He grabs the blanket and covers his leg, as it’s colder than he’d like, or would ever admit. The blanket smells of flowers too, but also something else.

Dinner comes; some katsudon that Haro admits is surprisingly good before he can stop himself. Yuudai beams and brags about his mother’s cooking in a moment of familial weakness, and even though Haro would never listen to anyone else in one million years, he listens to Yuudai.

The bowls pile in the corner of the room, empty, and somehow the Tekikoukou game has turned into Field of Dreams. Again. They watch the Japanese dub this time, which Haro loathes, because he can’t tune this out in the same way he can tune out some damn subtitles. He can’t believe it when he catches himself mouthing the next line of dialogue to himself. _Damn it, Yuudai,_ he mutters.

“You have a lot of those flowers in your room.” Haro says, desperately trying to peel his friend away from Field of Dreams for at least a minute.

“They’re snapdragons,” Yuudai says as he stands to grab a bunch of them from his desk. “My favourite! And they smell so nice. Here, smell them.”

Yuudai shoves the vase towards his and Haro shoves it back.

“I’m not smelling them.” But Yuudai won’t give up.

“Come on, smell them.” He pushes the vase towards Haro again, he pushes them away.

“No! I’m not fucking Hanayuki, I aint smelling them!” The flowers return though.

“Come on!” Yuudai sings to him, “Just smell them! Please? For me? They’re nice!”

The frown on Haro’s face is so strong, his mouth hurts from doing it. His brows furrow so much, Haro wouldn’t be surprised if they merged into one. But Yuudai is looking at him with those goddamn green eyes again, and he’s pouting, shoving the flowers closer and closer. Haro relents and smells the damn things.

“They smell like you.” He mutters softly to himself.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing.”

“I’m sure you said something.”

“I didn’t fucking say anything!” Haro shoves the flowers away. He feels some tug at his stomach, and his face is hot. “I smelt the damn things; now get them away from me!”

Yuudai is beaming from happiness, and he practically skips back to his desk to return the flowers. He plops back next to Haro so hard, the futon bounces a bit underneath them. There’s a stupid grin plastered on his face and Haro refuses to look at him.

An hour passes as they watch Field of Dreams in silence. The quality of this Japanese dub is so _shit_ , Haro can’t stop thinking. He pulls at his hair as another line is mistranslating, and catches himself before he yells back to original line. What has Yuudai _done_ to him? Haro spends the rest of the movie twirling the edge of his pajamas in his fingers as he looks around the room.

Yuudai lives above a flower shop, and his home is filled with greenery. The blanket has red flowers on them, and the room is filled with snapdragons. The room smells like flowers and freshly cut grass, and something else he can’t quite pinpoint.

When the movie is done, Haro almost cheers aloud. The credits roll and he turns to Yuudai, beaming, but the boy is gone. He’s lying there, atop the futon and blanket. His pajama shirt is awkwardly rolled up against his stomach, his hair is a flat mess that Haro is so unused to, and Haro swears he sees a trickle of drool at the corner of his lips. He is snoring softly, and his nose is squeaking every time he breathes out because he’s lying flat on it. Haro tries not to laugh.

Haro turns the TV off and tries to wake up Yuudai, at least so the boy can correct himself. It’s impossible though, Yuudai sleeps like a rock. Haro is shaking his shoulder, calling his name, but nothing can wake him up. With a reluctant sigh, Haro grabs Yuudai under the arms and desperately tries to swing him around. He didn’t realise Yuudai was so heavy, though, and he struggles to move him atop the futon. By the time Yuudai is finally lying atop his futon in a manner that could be considered _slightly_ normal, Haro is hot and out of breath.

He suddenly realizes that there is only one blanket in the room. Nervously, he opens the paper door, but its pitch black outside and a digital clock reads _1:00am_. Haro can’t even believe it.

Haro hits his head against the wall and turns off the light. He curls into his futon and tries to sleep, but tonight is cold, and he can’t even believe his luck. Through the faint light of the moon that shines through the window, Haro turns around and looks at Yuudai, curled into his blanket as he snores. He’s breathing softly, and Haro sees the outline of his figure rise and fall with each breath. Haro distracts himself by thinking about the home.

Yuudai lives above a flower shop, and his home is filled with greenery. The blanket has red flowers on them, and the room is filled with snapdragons. The room smells like flowers and freshly cut grass, and something else he can’t quite pinpoint.

It’s cold, Haro thinks at _2:00am_. He rubs his wrist where Yuudai touched him. He lies there for a long time, staring at his wrist and just thinking. When another hour has passed, Haro sits up and slides his futon closer to Yuudai’s.

The blanket is large enough for them both, and it’s already warm from Yuudai’s body. Haro’s face turns red, but it’s heat, he guesses, so that’s something. He find himself moving closer and closer as the night rolls on, until Yuudai is there, inches from him, and Haro can feel his body heat and smell his hair.

He’s starting to feel tired now, and his lids are getting heavy. He closes his eyes. He’s warm now.

Yuudai lives above a flower shop, and his home is filled with greenery. The blanket has red flowers on them, and the room is filled with snapdragons. The room smells like flowers and freshly cut grass, and something else he can’t quite pinpoint.

Yuudai snores suddenly and turns around. His fingers brush against Haro’s wrist. They’re warm.

Yuudai lives above a flower shop, and his home is filled with greenery. The blanket has red flowers on them, and the room is filled with snapdragons. Haro can smell flowers, freshly cut grass, and Koizumi Yuudai.


End file.
